Page 35 of Wicked Little Secret
She collapsed onto her bed and dug a vibrator out of her nightstand drawer.
The moment went from doom and panic, where I was convinced I was caught, to erotic and shocking.
Everything felt surreal.
Nyssa Oliver laid back against her pillows and propped her thighs open just wide enough to fit her vibrator. The room filled with the fast buzz of the toy as it stimulated her clit and she moaned along.
Her eyes rolled shut. She quaked and ground her hips against the little hot pink toy. Lost to the intense feelings taking over her, she was tuned out of the present.
It was all fantasy.
I husked out a deep breath watching her and prayed it wasn’t loud enough for her to pick up. As she lay pleasuring herself on the bed, I was erect and ravenous behind the closet door. Blood had rushed to my cock, pushing against the constraints of my pants.
Her body was perfection.
Lush curves wrapped in smooth brown skin. Ample breasts jutted out as she arched her back and her blouse rode up enough to expose her flat stomach. Her thighs, the thickest part of her, were spread wide open. Though I couldn’tdirectlysee her pussy, I could see how her hand pressed the vibrator to the intimate area, riding the waves that crashed over her.
The fluid way her body moved was a form of art in itself. She writhed in bed, uninhibited and free, in the throes of pleasure I desperately wanted to give her myself.
“Fuck yes, Miss Oliver… touch that little pussy. Soon it’ll be me,” I panted quietly. I rubbed my groin area so hard I had to clench down on my jaw to keep from coming.
For a wild moment, I was certain she heard me—her eyes popped open and she lookedright atthe closet door.
But then her orgasm struck at that exact moment, and all rationale was lost. Her head fell back against the pillows and she gave a throaty cry.
She was a masterpiece as she came undone.
I reached the same peak as she did. As she orgasmed in bed, I reached my fill inside my pants.
For a few seconds, we were lost together but separately at the same time, overwhelmed by the orgasms that seized us.
Nyssa stroked her orange cat and said, “I had to get that out of my system, Peaches. He’s been in my head all day.”
…he who? Samson Wicker? Or someone else?
I’m so distracted by the mysterious man she’s referenced that I forget to be concerned she could still open the closet and discover me.
Luckily, she gets up out of bed, grabs the pair of jeans she’d shimmied off in the doorway, and then tells her cat she’ll be back. She has a few more errands she needs to run.
Peaches purrs as if in objection—probably still awareI’mhere—but Nyssa simply grabs her bag and walks out.
Relief sweeps through me listening to the door thud shut.
Time to make my escape.
No less than ten minutes later, I’m able to slip out of Nyssa Oliver’s apartment building, sight unseen. I get inside my car and look up at the far left window that’s hers.
A window I’ve stared at more times than appropriate in recent weeks.
“Why were you watching me, Theron?” Josalyn asked, pushing past me. “I know it was you. I saw you on the street corner.”
“Jos, that’s not what was happening.”
“It was exactly what was happening!” she snapped. “You think I don’t know what you’ve been doing?”
“I could say the same to you! I’m just trying to look out for you.”
She scoffed, her full mouth twisted into a dismissive smirk. “You really think I need you to? You have to stop.”